


And Again, Icarus Falls

by tepache



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I mean there's comfort, Inspired by The Fall of Icarus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, and the hurt trumps the comfort, but there's also hurt, no beta we die like jason, this one ends real sad guys, very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tepache/pseuds/tepache
Summary: The story of Icarus takes on a whole new meaning when you can fly, but Jon conceded Icarus couldn’t do what he could do. Because if it were Jon? He would fly straight into the sun and let it burn him up.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 24
Kudos: 94





	And Again, Icarus Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Okay holy procrastination batman.
> 
> This one has been sitting in my drafts for a _while_ and it was really just a vague idea. Then I saw [this wonderful piece of fanart](https://stardustrobin.tumblr.com/post/612059231975309312/have-you-perhaps-done-helioswally-trying-to-catch) by [stardustrobin](https://stardustrobin.tumblr.com/) that inspired me to rework some things and finish the story.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The story of Icarus takes on a whole new meaning when you can actually fly.

There’s a book of Greek myths for sitting on Jon’s desk, three hundred pages long, slightly yellow, and if the way Lois held it was any indication,  _ heavy _ . Jon had received it as a Christmas present from the Waynes when he was seven. At the time, Clark had laughed, but the following weeks found him in a state of bafflement as Jon absolutely devoured page after page. 

The stories inside called to him, the words swirling off the page into spirals that wound their way inside his brain and made themselves at home. He saw himself in those pages, in a way no one else on Earth could compare to. Hercules’ strength was coiled inside his body, Achilles’ speed wrapped around his feet, Medusa’s rage glowed in his eyes.

And yet, Jon always found himself going back to the tale of Icarus. Sure, Daedalus and the labyrinth and the minotaur were all interesting, but what really drew his eye was the image of Icarus flinging himself into the sky, laughter and joy etched on every line of his face as he strives for the unattainable.

His mom joked about it sometimes. 

“Don’t go getting any ideas, Jon. Stick to flying around the farm, and you’ll be just fine.” The words were said with Lois’ trademark cheeky grin, but he could hear the undercurrent of worry in her voice.

So he always made sure to respond, “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s not like I’m actually gonna fall into the ocean because of the sun.”

And he wouldn’t. Icarus couldn’t do what he could do, Jon conceded. Because if it were Jon? He would fly straight into the sun and let it burn him up.

* * *

Jon recalled the first time he met Damian perfectly, if not for the boy himself, then for the way his parents acted. They made Jon’s favourite dinner and brought home Grandma Kent’s apple pie and let him stay up two hours past his bedtime after Damian left.

It was almost as if they were apologizing to Jon for having Damian over. As if becoming friends with him required payment. As if he hadn’t heard Bruce confiding in Clark about this new child, how he was angry and violent and hurt and how Bruce didn’t know what to do.

To be honest, Jon accepted the bribes immediately, because he felt he deserved them. Despite trying to make a somewhat decent impression on arguably the most powerful man on Earth’s family, Damian was prickly and rude. He scoffed at every other word that came out of Jon’s mouth, talked to him with derisiveness, even attempted to stab him.

Damian was a menace.

And then Damian showed up at his house in the middle of the night, arm outstretched and a forbidden smirk playing at his lips. Jon wasn’t supposed to leave the house at night, he knew that. He also knew he wasn’t ready for missions yet; Clark had so much left to teach him. He also knew Damian Wayne was one of the most dangerous people in existence.

Jon never stood a chance.

Distantly, he could hear Lois reading the tale of Icarus to him, asking him with an almost pleading look in her eye not to fly into the sun. It didn’t matter. 

Jon fastened his wings to his back, a red cape stitched to his hoodie with a bright  _ “S” _ displayed on it proudly. Damian was standing outside his window, a foot on the ledge. He flipped off the ridge and landed next to his motorcycle, mounting it and revving it silently. He looked up at Jon, a challenge.

_ Well? _ the quirk of his eyebrows seemed to say.   
  


Jon let out a breath, then jumped.

* * *

When Icarus first stood near the window, overlooking his chance of freedom, it wasn’t with hope. It wasn’t with faith in his father. It wasn’t with a prayer to the gods. It wasn’t with fear of the delicate wings strapped to his arms. 

It was with a reckless smirk and a laugh like lightning.

When Icarus first jumped off the ledge, it wasn’t with concentration. It wasn’t with focus on getting the angle right. It wasn’t with grim satisfaction at his escape.

It was with a body pulled taught and filled to the brim with a challenge to the gods.

When Icarus fell, it wasn’t with apprehension. It wasn’t with desperation that the wings would catch. It wasn’t with panic at the guards at his back. 

It was with bliss at the wind in his hair and the sea spray on his feet and the warmth of the sun an ever-present thrum of life on his skin.

* * *

Damian stopped giving reasons for visiting. 

He used to cite lists of evidence against corrupt officials in the city, and tugged Jon onto the streets with hand on his cape.

Then he started coming more often, under the guise of training, and what started out as Damian giving him basic combat training (that Jon knew his parents would disapprove of) ended with a game of chase around the farm and a bowl of ice cream on the roof. 

And now, Damian was sitting on Jon’s bed, thumbing through some old  _ He-Man _ comics with his nose wrinkled in distaste. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes scoffing at the inaccuracies as flipped through the pages. Jon had spent the last fifteen minutes staring at Damian’s face, the way his mouth always quirked upward for a split second before he scoffed, the way the furrow in between his eyebrows only appeared if he clicked his tongue a certain way.

If Jon played his cards right, he could convince Damian to stay over for dinner and a movie. 

But when he lined the cards up, showed his hand, made a deal he was pretty certain Damian wouldn’t refuse, he was met with a scoff of dismissal.

For a second, his heart plummeted.

And then Damian said, “We do that increasingly often, Kent. It’s getting tiring. We’re going out instead. Come, put on a respectable shirt. I’ll pay.”

The night ended with Jon and Damian sitting on the roof of a building, letting the light from the billboards wash over them. Jon turned to watch Damian, cocking his head slightly as he took in the blues and purples rippling over Damian’s peaceful face, a stain of watercolor constantly spreading. 

“What is it, Jonathan?” Damian’s voice could almost be described as soft, a tone Jon had never heard him use outside of these nights.

“Nothing,” Jon said, and took another bite of his frankie.

Damian shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.” But even so, he shifted on the rooftop, angling his body towards Jon subtly.

Despite the half-foot of space between them, Jon could feel the sun’s heat getting closer, closer, closer.

* * *

What the story of Icarus doesn’t mention is how long Icarus was in the air.

All that’s remembered is Icarus taking a wild leap into the sky, Icarus being utterly engulfed by the sun’s heat, Icarus plunging into the icy depths of water below.

The myths don’t mention the way Icarus first saw the sun and was drawn towards him, a moth to a flame magnified by infinity. Helios was a benevolent god, and when he saw this human flapping his wings like a bird, frantically trying to reach him, he lowered his rays. But as the human came closer, Helios realized his desperate wing beats were graceful sweeps of feathers, the hasty kicks in the air were delicate curves of muscle, the manic expression on his face was a serene look of beautiful determination. His heart went out to this lovely, stubborn human with more tenacity than the sun’s own rays.

So he lessened his beams, dimmed his light, cooled the air as much as he could. There was no telling how long Icarus flew to Helios, how long the poetry falling from their lips they called conversation went on, how long Helios spent reaching his hand out for Icarus to grab so Helios could pull him up to godhood because surely,  _ surely _ if there was one human that deserved it, it was this one.

Icarus fell in love with the sun. The sun fell in love with Icarus. And that’s what the myths don’t mention.

* * *

What had been an exhausting day of classes, culminating with Jon throwing himself onto his bed in his dorm room with a certain dramatique that no one was around to appreciate, had shifted into Jon’s favourite kind of night. Damian had appeared at his window, hand outstretched just like he had so many years ago. He was saying something about a new drug that may target the younger population about to be released, but his mouth was pulled up in a rakish grin that promised a fight full of adrenaline and a fuck full of passion. 

And these past couple of months, Damian had stayed the night into the next morning, letting Jon make waffles just  _ this _ side of crispy and make coffee just  _ this _ side of bitter and press a kiss against Damian’s forehead just  _ this _ side of sweet. With fingers tangling together against the counter of the little kitchenette, Damian’s hair disheveled and soft, and a whispered  _ habibi _ well within super-hearing range, Jon was hard pressed to say the mornings had become as fulfilling as the nights.

The choice was practically made for him. Jon took Damian’s hand and flew up into the night, following the glow of the motorcycle below. Damian illegally hacked into a couple databases and secure files, Jon used his mother’s name to gain access to places he shouldn’t have gained access to, Bruce Wayne’s money made a few people bat their eyes and forget they ever saw the two vigilantes.

Damian had been particularly vicious that night, his body a violent arc flinging itself into a hoard of guns, fully trusting Jon to have his back. Jon wasn’t sure whether to talk to Damian about it or let him press Jon into the bed.

But Jon had always found himself following Damian’s lead a little too easily, and he ended up delighting in his unforgiving laughter floating into the air as Damian’s knuckles dripped red.

* * *

Helios’s mouth was fire against Icarus’s, and no matter how often Icarus was overtaken, he would never tire of the heat. Icarus was pushed up against Helios’s embrace, the cool air of Aeolus letting him focus all his attention on Helios’s burning grip. On the way his lips were fierce and his brown eyes had turned into embers enkindled and his fingernails were digging into Icarus’s wrists as Helios held him close, and Icarus never  _ ever _ wanted him to stop.

* * *

Damian’s mouth was fire against his, and no matter how often Jon was overtaken, he would never tire of the heat. Jon was pushed up against a building, the cool air of Metropolis letting him focus all his attention on Damian’s burning grip. On the way his lips were fierce and his brown eyes had turned into embers enkindled and his fingernails were digging into Jon’s wrists as Damian held them against the brick, and Jon never  _ ever _ wanted him to stop.

* * *

Helios had held Icarus’s face tenderly and had run his palms along Icarus’s body reverently and had pressed himself inside Icarus with more passion than he had ever felt. It was only when his fingertips across the feathers strapped to Icarus’s back that they began to burn.

Icarus was flesh and bone overtaken by the shining light of his soul. He was more powerful, more pure than the gods could ever hope to become. But the wings, though the marvel of Daedalus's genius, were made of brittle wax. They were stiff and unyielding, in all the ways Icarus’s body wasn’t.

The sheer love in Helios’s form brought fire to his wrists, to his palms, to his nails. And that fire burnt a feather to ash.

It was then that Helios discovered loving  _ too _ fierce,  _ too _ bare,  _ too _ savage was possible. Though a man can bask in the warmth, and even bring himself to ignore the pain that comes with setting oneself aflame, a man cannot withstand the full adoration, devotion, and reverence of a god.

* * *

“You’re  _ what? _ ”

“I know you heard me perfectly well the first time, Jonathan.”

“Damian, what the actual hell? You’re going  _ back? _ ”

“I don’t have a choice!”

“Yes. You do. It’s called  _ don’t fucking step foot in the League of Assassins without your brothers at your back and a plan to destroy them _ .”

“When they’re threatening you, yes, I can.”

“You don’t even know if this plot is real! For all you know, they could be lying about being in contact with the Manhunters.”

“Jonathan.”

“What.”

“You have to trust me on this.  _ Please _ . The things they showed me, you and every other person I care about, along with many others, will die if I don’t cooperate. Ra’s finally got his wish, I suppose.”

“That’s actually bullshit. I know for a fact Tim and Bruce have beaten him before, and they can do it again.”

“Not this time, they can’t. Not without, um.”

“Not without Dick, you mean.”

“Yes. Besides…”

“Damian? You don’t, you know,  _ want _ to go to them, do you?”

“No, of course not!”

“Damian I can hear your fucking  _ heartbeat _ , you’re  _ lying _ .”

“It’s just… ugh.  _ tt. _ Two nights ago there was an incident. If I had killed someone, then maybe twelve others would be alive.”

“One incident isn’t enough to change your mind. And I  _ know _ that if Dick was still here, he’d be able to talk you through this. You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“I…”

“Damian?”

“Grandfather has been in contact with me for a while. Maybe if I join the League, I can change it from the inside. Make it more like the Bats.”

“You’ve been planning this.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you come here? For, what, for advice? Permission? ‘Cause I can tell you right now, I’m not giving it.”

“No. I came to say goodbye.”

“Damian. Get your hand off my cheek right now. Unless you’re planning on using it to kiss me into tomorrow, where you’re going to  _ stay _ , then get your hand off my fucking face.”

“Habibi, listen-”

“No Damian,  _ you _ listen. They told me. They all told me, all these years.”

“What? Who?”

“ _ Everybody _ . They told me to stay away from you, because you’d only end up hurting me. They told me you would end up killing me. They told me your past couldn’t be erased no matter what, and it was going to come back to haunt you, and I’d just get in the way. They pleaded with me to understand, they told me you would  _ ruin me _ .”

“Jonathan…”

“And I didn’t listen. I knew how awful you could be, I knew how much you actually tried to keep me away. But I didn’t care. I walked into hell with you without a second thought and I learned to live in the shadows with you and and I kissed you when your lips were covered in blood.”

“Jon-”

“I always told them they were wrong. Don’t you  _ dare _ prove them right.”

“They were. They were always right. There’s blood on my hands and there’s disaster in my eyes and death in my voice, they were right about that. And maybe they were right in saying that I ruined you. But what they got wrong is that I’d hurt you. Jonathan, I’d destroy myself before I hurt you.”

“Fine. Then destroy yourself. Right here, right now. Because you leaving? That would hurt me more than  _ anything _ .”

“No. It wouldn’t. You’re one of the strongest people I know, you’d survive. And you would know that, somewhere out there, I’d still be alive, and I’d still love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

“...Damian?”

“Jonathan.”

“I can’t change your mind about this, can I?”

“You never could. I just dragged you along with me, but you can’t come with me this time. I’m sorry- _ mmph” _

“That goodbye kiss better not be the last one I ever give you, got it? I’m planning on giving you another one when you come back, and that’s gonna be in a week, okay- _ mm. _ ”

“That was a pathetic goodbye kiss. Mine was better.”

“No it wasn’t, but whatever. You can pretend- _ hey _ . Damian? Damian,  _ oh _ , what are you-”

“One more night. Please, Jon. Can I stay one more night?”

* * *

Helios’s arms were outstretched and his face was full of fear like never before and he was pushing all he could into his speed. But he still wasn’t fast enough to grab Icarus.

Icarus’s fingertips brushed Helios, a last, futile attempt, before he tumbled out of reach.

The wings billowed upward, flames licking their edges until Icarus became a flame, a fireball, a supernova that would have Helios jealous on any other day. Now, as he willed himself  _ faster, faster, faster _ , all he could do was let tears drip down onto his face as his love turned into a blaze, showcasing his beauty for Helios one last time. 

And then. And  _ then _ . Icarus struck the water, plummeting into the icy depths with more force than Zeus’s thunderbolts. Waves crashed upwards, creating a wall of salt, before collapsing in on themselves, covering Icarus’s body in a way that only Helios could do. Somewhere, distantly, Helios could hear Poseidon laughing.

The humans were truly wise when they called the Earthshaker cruel, merciless.

Helios dove in the water, ignoring the way the water bit into his skin like acid, and finally,  _ finally,  _ was able to grasp Icarus’s hand in his own. He burst out of the water with a strength to rival Hercules, and frantically checked for the steady pulse of Icarus’s heart.

But something else caught his attention. He turned the limp body, one that should never be so lifeless, around, and his breath stopped in his throat.

Dark, angry burns burst from Icarus’s back, spreading onto his arms. A mockery of the wings he once wore, they were a permanent brand on his skin. It showed, very clearly, that Helios had marked this man. Helios had loved this man. And look at what happened to him.

But Helios was so focused on Icarus’s scarred arms, Icarus’s dreadfully silent chest void of any pulse, Icarus’s soulless body, he missed Icarus’s face.

For in his final moments, as he fell towards the sea, there was but one expression on his face.  _ Bliss _ . The flames were licking up his arms, just like Helios’s tight embrace. The heat wormed its way under his skin and into his body, just like Helios had done not moments before. And the last vision Icarus had ever seen was Helios’s arms, forever outstretched to catch a man in a fall that never ended.

* * *

Strong hands were circling Jon’s face, holding Jon’s body close, wiping away the blood that sputtered from his lips.

“No,  _ no,  _ Jonathan.”

Damian’s face came into focus above him, panic and terror and anger a hurricane on his features.

“Damian?” he coughed weakly.

“ _ Jon _ . Why in God’s name would you-”

“They were gonna kill you, Damian. You’re the Demon’s Head. They weren’t going to think twice.” Jon’s words were punctured with gasps for breath.

“So you took a  _ kryptonite spear _ for me?” The anguish was clear in Damian’s voice.

“Mmm, ‘course I did,” Jon’s eyes were getting duller, his grip on Damian’s fingers weaker, his words quieter. “Always told them. Told Mom, told Dad, told all of them.”

“Told them what?” 

Jon smiled up at Damian. “I told them I’d burn up for you.”

Jon never heard Damian’s shriek of rage, loud enough to shake the heavens. Jon never saw Damian cutting down enemy after enemy, not letting anyone within five feet of Jon’s body. Jon never felt the tears drip onto his face as Damian’s body wracked with sobs.

What Jon did hear was Damian’s last whispered  _ I love you _ .

What Jon did see was Damian’s face lifting into one last smile.

What Jon did feel was blood on Damian’s lips, pressing against his own. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that's that. Let me know what you guys think, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr [here](https://river-bottom-nightmare.tumblr.com/) .


End file.
